


Foolish

by icedcoffeebro



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Eddie's pov, I'm Sorry, Longing, M/M, Post-IT (2017), Sad, Yearning, spring dance, the entire vibe of this fic is sad, they're 14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedcoffeebro/pseuds/icedcoffeebro
Summary: It's the Spring Dance. Richie invited Eddie. And it's not a joke.It's never a joke when it comes to Eddie.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Foolish

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this back in October (October 12! To be precise) but I didn't know how to write Eddie because he's such a complex character. I feel more confident about him now that I've finished reading the book.
> 
> I don't think I'm ever writing young losers stuff ever again. But this was interesting!
> 
> Also nothing particularly sad happens but yeah they're all depressed so beware of that.

Eddie is certain Richie inviting him to the spring dance was some sort of cruel joke. But he had accepted regardless. So now he was facing his bedroom mirror, trying to tie the bowtie on the suit Stanley had passed to him, one that didn’t fit him anymore.

The Losers had never attended the spring dance. Mostly because… well, because of Bowers’ gang. But they were out of the way now. Ever since last summer, they had learned to appreciate every little thing. After all, they had nearly died. 

So yeah, Stan, Richie, Ben, Eddie, Mike, and Bill were attending the spring dance. Eddie had learned earlier that day only him and Richie were attending as a “couple”, which made his skin itch, but it also caused his heart to skip a beat. He doesn’t know what to feel. He wishes he still had his inhaler with him, but he threw it away when he learned it was all fake. He just needs to ground himself.

“Okay, Eddie,” he says to his own reflection, “you can do this, it’s just Richie…” he creases his eyebrows and bites his lip. Then he shakes his head, “Just Richie,” 

He takes a deep breath. Inviting him to the dance as a prank is not Richie’s style. Eddie has known him his whole life. He was shaking when he asked him if he could pick him up and they could go together. He didn’t throw a punchline, he just stood there, nervous. There was no audience. But Eddie also couldn’t grasp that Richie would want… something.

Since last summer, they hadn’t been much of the same. Richie would still crack jokes, but they had this ever lingering sadness attached to them now. Growing up was supposed to be this bittersweet experience, every adult told them so. But none of those adults had been chased by a killer clown, they don’t know the first thing about sadness. 

Richie had once told Eddie he woke up in cold sweats, remembering. Eddie didn’t experience anything similar. And that terrified him. 

He shrugs the thoughts off. Tonight is supposed to be good. It’s something normal kids do. Stuff 14 year olds get excited about. A night of awkward dancing in the school’s gym. The Losers need all the normal they can get. 

He says goodbye to his mom when he hears Maggie Tozier’s car on the driveway. He never told her he was going with Richie. He never tells her much anymore. Learning his mother was making him sick caused a big shift on their relationship. She’s scared of him now, he thinks. 

Quite frankly, he doesn’t care. 

Eddie exits his house, Richie is standing on his doorway, ready to ring the bell. His face lights up when he sees Eddie. 

“Nice suit, did your mom pick it for you?” Richie says. Eddie rolls his eyes. 

“You need new material,” he says, walking next to Richie, heading for the car.

“I’m waiting for someone to write it for me when I’m rich and famous,” Richie says.

“If that’s what it takes to make you funny, I’ll buy every single seat to your show,” Eddie says.

“Aw,” Richie puts his arm around Eddie, “thank you, Eds,”

Eddie greets Maggie, and enters the backseat next to Richie.

The ride to their school is quiet. Ever since It, they’ve learned to communicate without any words. 

Richie reaches for Eddie’s hand and grabs it. Eddie gives him a small smile. This isn’t a joke. This isn’t a joke for either one of them. 

Richie forms circles on Eddie’s palm with his thumb. Eddie crouches closer to him and rests his head on his shoulder. Maggie glimpses through the rear view mirror. She says nothing. Richie hasn’t been the same in a while, and Eddie is familiar. Eddie helps him. They help each other.

They get to school, saying their goodbyes to Maggie. 

When they get to the dance, everyone is already there. They’re hanging out on a corner with cups of punch in their hands, “dancing” by swaying from one side to the other. Richie greets them all with his usual energy, which the rest don’t have much of. Mike leans in and whispers something to Bill’s ear, Bill’s lip twitches up, Eddie doesn’t think he’s seen him actually smile ever since last summer. Not the way he used to, anyway.

“Lighten up!” Richie says, “Let’s dance,” 

“I don’t know, Rich,” Eddie says, looking at the crowded gym.

Richie then pouts and gives him sad eyes behind Coke-bottled glasses, and well, how could Eddie ever resist?

Dancing is clumsy. It’s awkward. And Eddie grows red, he’s embarrassed. Not of Richie; _never_ of Richie. Of the whole thing. Because growing up is weird. It’s uncomfortable. Beside the obvious, they weren’t the same. And they knew it. They were changed, touched by It. And the other kids would never understand. 

But Eddie surely understood the way Richie made him feel.

Thing is. It terrified him. Because it was strong. It was persistent. And it was nice. And Eddie Kaspbrak was simply not used to feeling anything much. 

After two songs, they return to the rest of the losers, who are now by the bleachers. Sitting in silence.

They do that a lot now.

“Do you think someone spiked the punch?” Richie asks, nudging at Eddie.

“I wish,” Stan says, covering his eyes from the lights, “this shit would end then,”

All of them laugh. 

Then the silence returns. 

Eddie wishes they could be other people. He wishes they could be _just_ be kids. Escape their circumstances. Get the hell out of Derry. Have one last DnD session in Bill’s garage and kiss it all goodbye. 

Someday, he’ll tell Richie all of this. 

“We’re supposed to enjoy this,” Eddie says.

“W-w-what do y-y-you mean?” Bill asks.

“Stupid dances,” Eddie says. 

“We’ve always been losers,” Richie shrugs, “maybe it’s not the clown, maybe we’re just outsiders,” he looks at the crowd. 

“Or maybe this just sucks,” Stanley suggests.

Mike shrugs, “It’s whatever, I think,”

“Missing homeschool?” Richie teases. 

“Beep beep,” Ben says, then thinks for a moment, “we could go to the club house,”

“Y-y-y-yeah,” Bill says, his perpetual tragic look leaving his face for a second. 

“The second location is where all action happ–” Richie starts.

“Beep beep,” Eddie says, “let’s do that,” he takes one last look at the crowd, he sighs, “guess once a loser, always a loser,”

The others nod in agreement. 

They have their own party down at the clubhouse. All six of them. And it’s better. Because they can talk. They can be themselves. Bill and Mike take the hammock, while Richie and Eddie fight for the swing. 

And Eddie thinks that maybe growing up won’t be so bad. Not if he goes through it with them. His friends. People who built their houses in his heart. 

Everything will be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and leave kudos.
> 
> Twitter: LTCHAPTERTWO
> 
> I know. Me writing Reddie is weird as fuck. Specially as teens. Just really wanted to put this fic out there because I thought a lot about where it was going. I'm happy with the results. 
> 
> Shine on.


End file.
